


його

by heyitsmemi



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Melekseev
Genre: Awkward Crush, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, cuz they are awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14379714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsmemi/pseuds/heyitsmemi
Summary: In which Mélovin is getting ready for his approaching Eurovision performance; it turns out that dealing with the preparations, the challenges, aswell as a small (don't believe him, it's not just a 'small') crush are all about to turn his life upside down even more - and he is, to put it simply, stressed about it.No, that's not even true. He's only stressed about Him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Writing the first Melekseev fic? More likely than you think.  
> Originally, this was writing itself just for fun, but then my boyfriend convinced me that everyone should be able to read it. Great, now I'm stressed, but I'm definitely excited.  
> This will actually be a chaptered fic, so far I'm estimating it to be about four chapters, and I will come back with regular updates on every Friday. I have the second chapter and half of the third one written already, so I know there's no chance for me to abandon it anymore, therefore I figured it it might aswell debute now.  
> I actually put plenty effort into this, so I definitely hope you'll enjoy it, and will be on the lookout for more.  
> I hate (love) these two with a burning passion, and creating my take on Mélovin has been a great experience.  
> Some details are changed for plot reasons (like the schedule of the Amsterdam event, for example), but I tried to stay as true to both of them as it was possible.  
> In any case, have fun reading!

Before we begin, I'd like to thank [nikialekseev](nikialekseev.tumblr.com) from Tumblr for taking the time and creating a cover for this fic. It's beautiful, fits with the story so well, and I cannot thank him enough;

 

 

*

 

Realistically, Mélovin knew he had no reason to be nervous about something so ridiculous. And yet he couldn't grab a hold of himself all of a sudden; especially given the fact that he wasn't nervous about the _reasonable_ things.

Meeting some europals for the first time? The presspeople? Singing for a crowd? Getting to know some other contestants? Reasonable fears, especially for someone with social phobia - but he was not fazed about them the slightest. This part, he was excited about, he'd been dreaming about this for quite a while. No, he was on edge because of the most absurd, stupid thing one could imagine.

It seemed to start off well enough, and soon his nerves dispersed; he handled the interviews well, his charisma was on point, and it was easy to hit it off with the other contestants and the few fans he met. Not to mention that Amsterdam itself on its own was lovely. He was himself. Everything was -

He spotted it from the corner of his eyes just as he was moving away from a circle of interviewers. Another wave of the new contestants arrived... and it included _him_.

Mélovin eyed Alekseev moving through the crowd as if he was frozen in place. Suddenly he felt his heart rate pick up with nerves once again, and cursed himself for being like... like _this_. In a moment of panic, as soon as Alekseev briefly locked eyes with him, he did the possibly worst thing anyone could when trying to actually make a good impression; he turned and went the other way.

_You idiot! You absolute wanker, what are you **doing**?!_

He leaned against a wall just outside any possible person's point of view, trying to get it together without actually kicking something.

Thing is, he was was nervous about a lot of things when it came to his fellow Ukrainian ’opponent’; there was this whole ordeal and drama about Alekseev withdrawing from the Ukrainian selection to represent Belarus instead. He had no idea what Alekseev thought about him in general, or if he'd feel negatively about him, or if there would be tension. Furthermore, in the beginning, Mélovin was kind of pissed at him - not because of what or who he decided to represent, but because it felt almost like he withdrew as soon as he himself was announced as a contestant. Besides all that, he was looking forward to work with him, meet him, and felt let down and maybe even betrayed at first, though he knew it was completely unreasonable. He believed Alekseev might've been a bit arrogant... but it only took a few interviews to see that he was rather the opposite. He desperately wanted to avoid giving anyone the wrong impression – _Well, good fucking start, Kostya!_

He could already see the headlines in front of his eyes; **'DRAMA BEHIND THE SCENES! MÉLOVIN DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO DO AS MUCH AS TO GLANCE IN ALEKSEEV'S DIRECTION** '

But this wasn't even all. The most ridiculous, the most _horrible_ part of this all was that he was... a fan of Alekseev's music. Maybe a bit more than just his music. He admired his work, yes, but he also had this... _thing_ for Alekseev in general. It's been going on for a while now, which is why he was excited to meet him to begin with, to have the _chance_ to meet, but ever since the turn of recent events, and as he looked into him even more, it's just gotten worse. Alekseev seemed so... _good_. He was attractive as all hell, had a wondrous voice, wrote well, and apparently was also just a very modest and down-to-earth guy who just wanted to do his thing in peace, and wasn't seeking drama at all. Mélovin suddenly craved the sweet release of death; it would’ve still been better than developing an actual crush on his own damn rival who he never even met before.

He needed to handle this situation and make it right, save it before it was too late... he needed to pull himself together and act like _himself_.

He forced his legs to carry him as he moved towards the group of new contestants, even if in reality he wished he could just quite frankly avoid the entire thing. As soon as he actually walked up to Alekseev, he indeed instantly wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him whole, before he even had the chance to say anything - the thoughts in his head gave him enough reason to wish that.

Alekseev was... a lot shorter than he'd expected. He wasn't _actually_ short, but compared to his own height, he seemed that way. A bubble of warm feelings instantly exploded somewhere inside him, and he hated it with every fiber of his being. Although he'd expected Alekseev to be around his own height or maybe even taller - which was a quite attractive thought to begin with - reality was much more cruel to him. He found it... oddly endearing. Absolutely, insanely appealing, only fueled by the fact that he himself was younger. Just very , very --

"Mélovin, nice to meet you," Alekseev's voice was soft.. soothing? And smooth... _like butter_ \- and Mélovin needed to snap the hell out of it. He managed to pull himself together and smile, then reached out and shook hands with him.

Alekseev looked somewhat sheepish but friendly, his eyes showed no sign of any negativity, his handshake and touch was as gentle as gentle of a person he seemed to be, his hair was not messy now but pushed back neatly, although not to a point where it looked too formal, and Mélovin tried his level best to ignore these small details (he could always think back and analyze them later), telling himself that it was time to show just how positively he felt about him, that there were no issues on his part.

"Yes, I've been looking forward to meet you for a while now! Great song, big fan of your voice!"

_Jesus Christ Kostyantyn, maybe a bit less positive..._

Alekseev, on the other hand, seemed to be positively enlightened by it - in the literal sense, he could've sworn his eyes lit up for a second there. Maybe he was just as nervous because of the whole drama...? Afraid he'd think of him badly?

"Ah, thank you! I love your song aswell, it's one of my favorites this year," Mélovin never in his life before had to face the urge to fucking _giggle_ , and yet there he was, trying to prevent it for dear life. As if this meant anything. He clearly wouldn't say it in his face if he thought his song sucked ass, therefore he needed to calm down.

"Hell yeah, Ukrainian solidarity!"

_What the **fuck?**_

Thankfully Alekseev was either too nice or genuinely just didn't have high expectations when it came to conversations, because he actually laughed a little and nodded, despite the fact that Mélovin clearly deserved an odd look as a reply at best. He immediately wanted to run once again and perhaps hit his head against a wall. But hey, at least he didn't go for a fist bump while saying that, right? _God_...

"I actually have to go meet some other people, but I'm sure I'll see you around?" He pushed himself to say, sounding as relaxed as he could manage, keenly wanting to disappear as soon as possible.

"I'm sure you will," Alekseev nodded, sending him another quick smile before walking off, and Mélovin was just left there questioning his life chocies before he went into the crowd, mostly to hide among all the people.

 

*

 

Mélovin was not the type to hide and embarrass himself. That's what he decided on later that night at a smaller get-together with the contestants. He was just not that type, even if the other person was someone who he had some sort of thing for - he would handle it and be himself.

Or at least he would've, but it was easier to think than actually doing so. He was sitting with a few people, having easy conversation, often even leading it, and wondered why was it, then, that he couldn't just go over to Alekseev and talk to him. Perhaps invite him over there. Instead, he watched him from the corner of his eye, whenever he entered his vision. Because that was going to achieve something for him, clearly.

He really made him wonder. For one, Mélovin had no clue if Alekseev was even into guys. He had a vibe, but he couldn't know for sure. He watched as Alekseev conversed with Laura, and decided he needed to investigate further. Maybe it was more pointless to even think about him like that - not like he _wanted to_ to begin with. As for Mélovin, he liked to think of himself as 'conveniently bisexual' - but at times like these more gay than not.

He decided he'll just leave it and have a drink or two... liquid bravery however was a dangerous thing, but he convinced himself he wouldn't go overboard. And truly, once he had alcohol in his system, he didn't even dare to glance in Alekseev's direction, just in case - _god forbid -_ temptation gets the better (or worse) of him.

And it was entirely fine, really, up until he went to use the restroom, and just as he was on his way out, who stepped in? His temptation itself on two legs with a babyface - Mélovin noted somewhere at that point that his intoxicated thoughts were rather worrisome.

He stopped in his tracks a bit awkwardly as Alekseev came in, like it was not a totally normal occurence in a public restroom. He just thanked somewhere inside his head that he didn't come in a few seconds earlier.

"Mélovin," Alekseev nodded towards him with that polite, sheepish sort of smile, and he nodded back, not quite trusting his mouth when his thought process was quite literally; _All night, we first encounter each other in the toilet. It could hardly get any more romantic than this!_

But he had to say something, he couldn't just stand there and stare at him like a _moron_ , because _obviously_ he still didn't move. _Be cool, remember, be yourself_. "Hey, Alekseev. Having fun?" _See? Easy._

"Yeah, it's pretty nice. Are you?" Mélovin just nodded, deciding it was honestly better for everyone if he just won't push his luck by opening his mouth twice within a few seconds, especially while likely tipsy.

And yet for some reason, _some reason_ he couldn't grasp, he still did it, just as he almost reached the door, stopping Alekseev once again as he turned back; "Actually, wait! Can I ask you something?"

Mélovin asked this before he even came up with what he wanted to ask. Surely he wasn't just about to ask him if he was into guys, right? _Right_? Alekseev turned back to look at him, clearly expecting him to ask whatever it was he wanted - Mélovin would've loved to, really, except he was panicking because he didn't actually have anything, he just wanted to drag it out to get closer, to have _some_ sort of conversation and -

"Do you really like my song?"

_Oh, for Christ's sake._

Alekseev chuckled, and Mélovin wanted to bang his head against a wall for the second time that day. "Yeah, I really do. It gets into your head from the first listen, and works really well with a voice like yours."

"Oh." Mélovin wanted to prove that he was capable of normal conversation, really, but he was also feeling a lot of things at once. "Good, okay, because... I'm the same with you. With your song, I mean."

Alekseev chuckled once again; he did this thing where he stared down while laughing softly, then back up, and Mélovin decided it was one of the most appealing things he'd ever seen. "I'm sorry, I'm talking nonsense, I'm... kind of drunk." He admitted, and wow, Alekseev did the thing for a third time. "I'm also not usually this lame at holding a conversation. I'm not sure why I'm like this with you," he added, for some... unfathomable reason.

"Works well enough for me. But is it because of the whole thing?"

Mélovin's heart nearly dropped into his stomach upon hearing that question. "The... what?"

Alekseev sent him a small smile, which, wow, really appreciated, but also he needed to stop doing that. "I meant the controversy. Are you nervous we might not get along because of all that went down?"

"Oh, yes, definitely," That was only part of it, but it was clearly better than saying it was mostly because he had a thing for him. At least it wasn't a full lie. "But on my end, it's not an issue at all. I want to be on good terms for sure."

"Good," Alekseev now grinned, and Mélovin knew it was his cue to leave, before his tipsy brain would decide to walk over there and kiss it off of him for having the nerve to subject him to it so often in these two minutes. The scary part was that in this state, he could even see it happening. He waved a little and turned around, but not before Alekseev added; "So feel free to talk to me, anytime."

Mélovin would forever deny he grinned like the damn fool he was as he finally left the room.

 

*

 

The concert night the next day didn't especially make Mélovin feel nervous - in fact he couldn't wait to get on stage and sing for the Amsterdam crowd. So many contestants came here this year, it was quite a big event.

He didn't really have the opportunity to hang around earlier, everyone was mostly preparing and giving interviews, had their pictures taken... and once the night arrived, he couldn't wait to get on the stage and release all that energy he had inside - just sing it all out, and then gain it right back from the crowd.

Once it was his turn and he was finally standing there, he felt more alive than ever - and the anticipation inside him for the actual Eurovision performance just grew even more. He glanced to the side as he welcomed the crowd, spotting Mikolas and Ari giving him a thumbs up from where they were covered from the crowd's curious eyes. He grinned in their direction - and then almost fell right down and into the crowd when he saw Alekseev appearing next to them, with that grin, nodding at him, as if saying 'good luck'. So, he was going to be watching him perform, aswell.

_Cool. No nerves increasing, definitely._

He nodded back, trying not to get too dizzy from the sudden, wild thoughts in his head about how Alekseev just expressed _support_ , and will be _watching_ him from _right there_ -

In the end, that knowledge raised him higher than he would've guessed; he was giving it his all, he knew he was on point, the crowd went wild for it, but he would never admit that it had to do with wanting to absolutely and entirely impress a certain someone, standing just a few metres from him, watching. Sometimes during his song, he gave Alekseev a small glance, and he would grin at him in response - he had no idea if Alekseev noticed that he didn't once look at his other two ’supporters’, and was only giving him the special treatment, but either way it worked out pretty well, because he felt like exploding, but he channeled it and made the stage explode instead.

Once his performance was over, he said bye to the crowd and ran straight towards the guys, breathing a bit heavily now, still high on adrenaline. He got a few approving pats on the back and shoulder, but when he didn't see _him_ , of course the first thing he said was; "Thanks! Where's -"

But then he spotted him, as he was just being guided away by staff - it was probably his turn soon -, and caught giving him a thumbs up while turning back, mouthing "great job", and honestly, that was more than enough.

He was sticking around next to the stage until it was Alekseev's turn... he figured the least he could do was giving him back that support. He purposely stayed hidden as Alekseev went on the stage, and then something peculiar happened; as Alekseev talked to the _crowd_ , he saw him searching it, then slowly, slowly his eyes found him just where he was standing before, watching Mélovin, and he... he chuckled in the middle of his speech.

Mélovin was more or less out of it as he teasingly waved at him, as if saying 'yes, I'm here', because frankly that was the most goddamn... endearing thing he's ever experienced in his 21 years of life. Alekseev was _looking for him_. He wanted to know if he was _watching_. He folded his arms on his chest, and actually crossed his fingers on both hands, hidden. Alekseev was a wonderful artists with a wonderful voice, and Mélovin really wanted people to recognize that. He wanted him to do his best.

And damn, did he! It seemed like it worked both ways - admittedly Mélovin couldn't know for sure if it was his presence that gave him that push like it did for him, but he allowed himself to at least play with the thought. Alekseev absolutely _nailed_ it! And perhaps he was seeing things, but he started to notice a pattern... Alekseev glanced at him too during his performance, though only once, but the fact that it was just after the line _'I was blind before you'_ did things to his mind, immediately jumping to conclusions. Perhaps it was a coincidence, maybe Alekseev was straight-up mocking him. Either way, Mélovin was unable to get over it.

He expressed his support by whistling and clapping loudly once Alekseev was done, and running off like some coward once he knew Alekseev would leave the stage.

 _It's only fair_ , he thought while smirking to himself.

 

*

 

He was still not over it during the afterparty, where they just kept on this... this game. Mélovin was sitting with a few people at one desk, Alekseev with some others not too far from him, but sitting in a way so he was facing him. Everyone was having fun and enjoying themselves, talking... while he and Alekseev kept making eyes at each other ever so often.

At first it was just Mélovin, staring as per usual, when Alekseev caught him, and he, of course, immediately looked the other way - _real smooth_.

But then it seemed like Alekseev became... curious? Because the next time Mélovin glanced in his direction, Alekseev was already looking at him, making his heart jump subtly in his chest. He looked away again, feeling like he'd been caught doing something bad, but at the same time he couldn't help but grin down at his hands. _He was doing this on purpose, wasn't he?_

Mélovin was up for the challenge, though; he glanced at Alekseev, waiting for him to look at him once again while resting his head in his palm loosely, replying to the people around him, but really just looking at him. It took about 20 seconds. This time, Alekseev clearly expected him to turn away again, but he didn't, he grinned and raised a brow - and then it was Alekseev who averted his eyes with a subtle smile on his lips. Well, look at that!

They repeated it a few more times, sharing subtle glances, before Mélovin got enough and stood up. He felt considerably braver... part of it probably had something to with the happenings of the last few hours, the concert, this?

 _We could practically be planning our wedding after all this 'technically flirting'_.

It was an exaggeration, clearly, but Mélovin began to think that maybe... _maybe_ Alekseev was at least a bit intrigued by him, which was honestly a great start. At least he didn't feel indifferent if he was clearly up for the eye game and pulling impossibly cute shit like cheering him on from the sidelines and then _expecting_ him to do the same.

He walked over, pretty confidently compared to all the awkward encounters before, barely resisting the urge to smile smugly when he saw Alekseev tense up slightly, once catching up on his plan. Mélovin politely joined the other group, asked Ryan to scoot over, so he could sit right next to Alekseev.

"Well, hello," he was grinning, without even attempting to hide it, talking directly to Alekseev. He was really happy to find his confidence again.

"Hey," Alekseev laughed softly, not even looking at him, and Mélovin had a _'jackpot!'_ moment, even if he knew this still barely meant anything.

He managed to get involved in the conversation; despite strongly disliking crowds and conversing with strangers, he knew this was something he needed to get over if he wanted to be on this field, and Eurovision provided a great challenge, aswell as a place to practice it. Not to mention that generally, he had great charisma; he was popular even in school for a reason, so it was easier than expected, and soon Alekseev was more laid back again - they were just talking, generally everyone at the table, sometimes breaking up into smaller parts; at times like these Mélovin would only focus on Alekseev - and it was so _easy_.

He found out more about him, his childhood, his passion for music and where it came from, and he was drinking up all his words, while he shared the basics of his own background. The competition came up, aswell as the drama from before, and they laughed and conversed naturally. Mélovin would often rest his chin on his hand while listening to him, until Alekseev began - probably unknowingly - mirroring him, and he noted every moment of it. Alekseev was a very soft-speaking person. Graceful. Used his hands often to express himself. Chuckled to himself. His smile was... incredibly bright, and it felt like bringing the sun out in Mélovin himself every time he did that, however cheesy that sounded. He would also often mess with his hair, and as the time went on, it started to get actually messy, and Mélovin _loved_ that look - he even decided to be brave enough to reach out and ruffle it gently, trying not to think about how soft and... fluffy it was suddenly. "Aww, disheveled!" He could swear Alekseev turned a shade redder, but maybe he was just wishing for it.

"I know, it... gets like that."

"I think it really suits you, actually."

Alekseev just hummed and smiled to himself in response, easily getting right back into the conversation, though it took longer for _that_ type of smile to disappear.

At one point he noticed he'd completely turned towards Alekseev; sitting with his legs on each side of the bench, and only turning his head towards the others when they asked him something or talked to him. He was honestly having a great time. Alekseev was intriguing and their conversations had a very natural, smooth flow - Mélovin caught himself wanting to know about his opinions and point of views no matter what they were about. He could've stayed there talking to them - _him_ until after dawn, but at one point people started to disperse; everyone would leave home the next day.

Mélovin didn't feel the whole parting ways thing, but he was grateful for this experience - and for the fact that everything actually turned out much better than he had hoped. As everyone was saying bye before heading back to their respective hotels, a few hugs were shared between certain people. He wasn't sure if he should hug Alekseev - but in the end, he went for it, and he certainly didn't regret it.

It lingered just a second or two longer than the others, and God, he was shorter, Mélovin almost forgot while sitting next to him. He was lovely to hug, it almost felt like he fit quite perfectly in his arms... truly, truly delicate, but not as if he was made of glass. He also smelled quite nice...

Thankfully, Mélovin didn't have the chance to keep thinking nonsense, because they pulled apart in the next moment. "Keep in touch, just in case we miss each other tomorrow," Mélovin said, pointing at him almost like a warning, making him chuckle once more.

"Oh, definitely."

Overall, Mélovin had a rather good feeling about everything that happened - and everything that was yet to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks had passed since the Amsterdam event, aswell as their meeting, and Mélovin is on edge.  
> They didn't talk much since - obviously both of them busy with preparations for Lisbon, but Mélovin wishes for more; and then he receives a text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with the second chapter!  
> Guys, your feedback and support just after the first part was amazing, and I'm so incredibly grateful! <3  
> I'm honestly hardly even processing it, but it definitely helps giving me all the motivation. Thank you so much, I hope you'll enjoy this one, too!

once again, huge thank you to @nikialekseev on tumblr for blessing us with his art (and providing me covers for every chapter) - you are the best, and i love you!

 

*

 

The next two weeks passed by more or less uneventfully, but the competition was approaching very quickly, and Mélovin mostly spent his time preparing. He couldn’t believe that a week later he’d already be going to Lisbon. It all seemed like a far away dream for way too long, and it still took time to process that no, in fact it was approaching – and very quickly, too. Part of him couldn’t believe it; the other simply couldn’t wait.

He’s heard from Alekseev on a few occassions during this time, but not more than from the other contestants in general, which he didn’t really like, but he was also hesitant to just pull up his phone and send him a goddamn text. _It’s not like a marriage proposal, Kostya, really!_

Still, he had his number, and he made zero use of it. There were so many times when he was tempted… and really, it wouldn’t have been anything unusual, but for some reason he just had to be a wimp, and wait for a miracle; wondering why it didn’t go anywhere while putting in zero effort. Seemed logical.

He knew he was acting unreasonable, especially with all the excitement he experienced whenever a notification from Alekseev popped up on his phone about liking some of his posts or pictures, and yet there he was, moping silently like a loser because _’well, he could text me if he wanted, too._ ’

Ironically, in the end, that’s exactly what happened.

Mélovin was just getting ready for sleep later that night, picking up his cat, Citrus from the bed when his phone buzzed, and as he reached for it and saw it was a text from _him_ , he nearly dropped that poor cat.

He placed Citrus down absent-mindedly, folded his legs on his bed and tapped on the text, which read;

**’Hey! Hope you’re doing good. I’m going back home for a concert this weekend. You’re in Odessa, right?’**

He stared at it, read over it way more times than it was needed even for a five-year-old to understand, but he couldn’t help it. He tried not to think too much about the fact that he seemed to know he wasn’t in Kiev – probably because of his posts the other day, but _still_.

 _Well_ , he thought to himself several moments later, _if anything, this surely proves Alekseev is ballsier than me._

**’hey, yes i’m good, been thinking about y –’**

**’hey, i’ve been meaning to text yo –’**

**’hey, i’m good, i hope you are too! yes i’m in odessa, visiting family. will you be coming here? :o’**

It was kind of amusing, really, that he needed 10 minutes to put together that one simple reply. He fell back onto his bed, just eyeing the ’Nikita is typing’ sign, like his life was depending on it.

 _Nikita_ …

He wondered if there would be a time he could call him his first name. Maybe even better.. _Niki_? Just thinking about it made him feel warm, and he wanted to groan from how pathetic he was, really. He also hoped Alekseev didn’t have his phone open the whole time he was trying to construct that text… seeing ’Mélovin is typing’ for 10 minutes, only to receive _that_ would surely raise some questions. God…

**’Not initially, but once I’m near, I could drop by. If you want to catch up, that is?’**

Mélovin considered the possibility that he was having some sort of fever dream. Did he really just imply… he’d come here, to… hang out? Together? Them? Alon –

„Fuck.” Mélovin said to no one.

Hell yes he wanted to catch up, it was just the fact that he could apparently barely handle a text conversation… he had his doubts about being entirely alone with him for god knows how many hours. He wanted nothing more than that exact opportunity – but he was also dreading it.

He shook his head, beginning to type;

**’i definitely do. could take you to the music studio i told you about.’**

He briefly mentioned it to him that night in Amsterdam; the music studio he took piano lessons in as a child, and where he would still often go back. He really didn’t want to make it seem like a date, but he also knew he couldn’t handle Alekseev in his room, perhaps sitting around in awkward silence.

He knew they were perfectly capable of proper conversation the last time, and that in fact it wasn’t even nearly enough, but he figured this would be different. They would be alone this time… no other people, no previous adrenaline jump, and two weeks _did pass_ since then. Even if he had no doubt he could talk to Alekseev endlessly, he wasn’t prepared to possibly… ruin anything – even if there was technically nothing to ruin. So perhaps a different location was really just playing it safe. They could… play music together, or talk about it, it was completely reasonable for musicians, wasn’t it?

**’Great! I would love that! :)’**

He let out a long sigh. Well… there it was, then. The progress he hoped for, except it felt like his whole bed was spinning with him. He felt excited, happy, nervous and terrified at the same time, somehow… what a wide range of emotions!

„Fuck…,” he repeated, turning to his side, eyeing his cat. „How the hell am I supposed to handle this, Citrus?”

He didn’t get a reply other than a big yawn.

„You are right… I _am_ being lame,” he sighed, turning back on his back. „… I just want him to think positiviely of me at least,” he added quietly, like the fool he was.

He had no idea what to expect, but he couldn’t deny he was extremely excited to see him again, despite all his nerves.

 

 

*

 

 

He never stopped stressing about their meet-up ever since it came up a few days ago, and on the day of it especially, Mélovin was a walking anticipation. He woke up early for some reason, although they were supposed to meet at 4pm. He tried to style his hair differently various times, except in the end he went with the usual anyway. He even changed clothes about three times before heading out – not like they were that different in style to begin with, nor that any of these held any importance at all, because really, he clearly just needed to _calm down._

They talked more since then, just to discuss the details, and on the whole way to the music studio Mélovin was playing different scenarios in his head. The owner even lent them the whole place for a few hours, and he suddenly didn’t even know if that was a good call or not. Part of him dangerously kept pushing him to think about it as some sort of date, when in reality Alekseev just… wanted to catch up. He was here, so he figured they might aswell hang out. It was a nice thing to offer! God, if he only knew what was really going on in Mélovin’s head…

He got there a good 20 minutes early, just in case, originally with the idea of giving himself time to calm down, but really he achieved the opposite; he basically spent 20 minutes in a mini-panic. By the time he heard the door of the room open, he was grateful – he began feeling like he’d much rather embarrass himself than having to sit around there any more with his thoughts.

He practically jumped up – instantly getting a little lightheaded, but he paid no mind to it. What he did focus on was Alekseev, because there he was; it was not a joke or a fever dream, he really did come and wanted to meet him.

He gave him _that s_ mile, that damn smile, his hair was messy… just barely in his eyes, the smallest traces of curls visible at the ends – it was all so cruel. A tiny part of Mélovin dared to wonder if he came here looking like this purposely after he told him this style suits him, but he ignored the thought, because frankly it was a stretch, and he gave himself too much credit.

For a semi-long moment, Mélovin didn’t know what to do with himself. What basic human interaction would suit this situation the best?

_Should I shake hands? Should I hug him?_

_God, just do someting, anything is better than standing there and looking at - !_

„Hey!” He grinned as he walked over, with surprisingly more confidence than he was even aware he had _. Great job_ , he smiled to himself, _no one could tell I was just having a breakdown_!

„Hi, nice to see you again,” Alekseev laughed a little as Mélovin reached him, and god, he once again forgot just how _tiny_ he was, without actually being tiny. Just compared to him… and how much he loved this little detail, too.

They did share a short, friendly hug afterall, where Mélovin did definitely not, under any circumstance, breathe in his scent subtly.

He kept on the chill and leisure act as he showed Alekseev around in the general areas, every now and then digging up some more childhood stories, wherever there was a memory that surfaced, and he was happy to see the honest interest on Alekseev’s face – in fact sometimes he would say something back about his own, and Mélovin was just really relieved to find that they truly talked very easily, even with no one else around.

Once they made it back to the room they started from; a big room with wooden walls and floor, holding several instruments, including Mélovin’s personal favorite; the big piano in the middle, he already felt a lot more at ease.

„That’s a beautiful one,” Alekseev noted, and as Mélovin followed his eyes, he smiled. They were thinking the same.

„Do you play?” He asked.

Alekseev shook his head slowly, a small smile present on his lips. „No, I just write and sing. I guess you could say my voice is my instrument.”

„And a quite good at that,” Mélovin said with a smile before nodding at him to follow him. „But come on…”

He seated himself on one end of the piano chair, eyeing Alekseev, who raised a questioning brow at him, making Mélovin laugh a little. „Come on, it’s not going to eat you. I will show you something,” he patted the seat next to him, until Alekseev gave in and joined him... they were both grinning.

Mélovin started playing, and smirked to himself once the familiar melody filled the room, and Alekseev gasped a little next to him. „Is this my song?”

Mélovin shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. „Perhaps I’ve learned it a little.” Just as he said it, he turned to him to give him a big grin, his fingers never stopping, and Alekseev made a sound akin to a huff of laughter – he was amused. Perhaps even impressed. _Good._

„Want to sing?” He asked then, glancing at him again. „I can play all of it.”

After a few seconds, he started singing quietly, almost like he was _shy_ , but then once he let out his voice, Mélovin was practically entranced. It sounded so different, directly next to him, just with a piano… his voice was so soft and beautiful, all while being capable of being powerful. Mélovin sometimes caught himself taking his eyes off the keys and watching him instead… Alekseev often closed his eyes… this song was full of feeling, and at certain moments it gave Mélovin the kind of… _urge_ to take his hands off the piano altogether and just kiss him instead.

 _Well god damn_ … he was quite deep in wasn’t he? Could this be called more than being starstruck yet?

Once the last ’forever’ left Alekseev’s lips, Mélovin smiled to himself once again. „You have a quite beautiful voice, you know.”

Alekseev chuckled and stared down onto his lap _– God_ … then back up. „It’s definitely not as special as yours though.”

Mélovin shrugged, although he knew damn well he will never stop replaying that sentence in his head. „Nah, but you can sing in various tones… which reminds me… should we do Снов осколки too?”

Alekseev let out an amused little laugh. „You memorized that one too?!”

Mélovin sent him an innocent smile. „Well, perhaps I’ve been into your music even before all this.”

„Oh?” He recognized a playful tone there.

He laughed, mostly to disguise his embarrassement. „What? You make good music. Perhaps I’ve been a fan of yours.”

Alekseev did the Thing with the smile once again, and then looked at him. „Actually, I’ve known about you since I saw you on the X Factor.”

Mélovin was glad he wasn’t currently playing, otherwise he would’ve made such an embarrassing mistake – surely he would’ve pressed the wrong key or some shit like that.

„Yeah, you were my least favorite.” Alekseev was making such a poker face, Mélovin almost believed him for a second, so he just stared at him until he began laughing. „I’m just kidding!”

„Ugh… cruel. Just start singing instead, Nikita!” Mélovin ordered as he began to play Снов осколки, although his smile betrayed him.

And that he did. Mélovin was, once again, taken by his voice, and it took him a moment to process that he actually did call him his first name. He suddenly didn’t even know what to concentrate on – but it was impossible not to be swept away when Alekseev sang next to him… softly… then at a deeper range… then softer again… and then at his normal range, that still felt like an explosion somehow. Mélovin could barely take his eyes off of him at this point.

After a while, he decided to join in, at first only singing the ’ooh’ parts, then switched to sing some parts with him, just to hear how they would sound in contrast (it was quite magical) – Alekseev seemingly wasn’t even surprised at this point that he even knew the lyrics, but he did seem generally pleased. Once the song came to an end, Alekseev spoke instantly; „Now play yours! I’ll try to sing with you.”

Mélovin smiled brightly as he played the intro of ’Under the ladder’, wondering how much Alekseev truly knew it – as it turned out, he really did. He sang the whole song with him, only stopping sometimes seemingly to just appreciate Mélovin’s voice – and he loved it. He wished he could just stay there and sing and play music with Alekseev all night long.

When his song was over too, Mélovin turned to him with a smile; „I’m impressed.”

Alekseev just chuckled in response, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, and Mélovin just… felt so happy it was ridiculous. Really, he didn’t know what to expect from this meeting, but it turned out way better than anything he could’ve wished for. „Hey…,” he began, gaining enough courage to continue somehow when Alekseev hummed with a smile. „Right, I was wondering if it would be okay if I called you Niki?”

Something flashed in Alekseev’s eyes for a second before smiling sort of sheepishly. „Yes, that would definitely be okay. But only if I can call you Kostya,” Mélovin blinked a few until Alekseev sent him that bright smile of his, and then he nodded quickly - not at all dazed, of course.

„Yes, you… absolutely can.”

They just sort of stared at each other then – Mélovin briefly noted that the sun was going down, based on the orange/yellow-ish colors the sun painted across Alekseev’s features from the room’s only, but quite big window… how it played with his eyes… He was so…

„You’re so pretty,” he mumbled, before his brain had the chance to catch up to him.

Even the air froze in the atmosphere between them.

_Jesus… fucking… Christ…_

Alekseev audibly sucked in a breath as his eyes widened for a second, but probably not as much as Mélovin’s did, who currently wanted to die from utter mortification.

„J-Jesus, I meant – I mean…,” he blabbered, just to make it even worse, and then Alekseev just burst out laughing.

 _He laughed_.

„You’re bright red, Kostya, oh no…,” And to be honest at this point Mélovin didn’t know what he wanted more; to die, or to kiss him silent. He didn’t even have time to ponder over how naturally that nickname rolled off of Alekseev’s tongue. In the end, he just buried his face in his hands while Alekseev chuckled some more… until he himself laughed, too. How could he not?!

„Thank you, though. You’re pretty, too,” Alekseev decided to say while grinning at him, and wow, this was just not fair in any way. Mélovin felt like he was burning up… but they just kept laughing.

Although Mélovin was pretty sure he completely exposed himself in the very least about the fact that he was into him one way or another (and damn, was he _completely_ into him), he was still thankful that Alekseev saved the situation with laughter. It was hard to stop, and the nature itself of it seemed… shy and embarrassed, on _both_ their ends. Maybe it wasn’t so impossible to think that Alekseev meant what he said, too, and maybe, just maybe they were just being smitten with each other. That maybe this was all subtle flirting.

His suspicion only seemed to grow when he became a bit too aware of the fact that their legs kept subtly touching below the piano while they laughed.

_Personal space who?_

Once they somewhat managed to get back to reality, it was already time for Alekseev to leave, and Mélovin truly tried his level best not to look visibly sad about it. He wondered what else might’ve happened if they have a little more time.. perhaps Mélovin would’ve also hereby confessed that he wished to make out with him on the top of this piano?

His thoughts seriously began to terrify him, but luckily Alekseev getting ready to leave got him to snap out of it.

„I had a lot of fun, really,” he said with a smile as he moved to hug him, and Mélovin had to physically resist the urge to keep him in place and not let go. But he managed. Because he was not completely out of his mind – even if that’s what the previous moments suggested.

„Me too, definitely. Keep in touch!”

„Of course. I’ll see you in Lisbon next week!” He had the _audacit_ y to wink at him while saying that. Wink. At him. Just casually.

Mélovin nearly bit through his tongue.

But he kept his cool on the surface, managing to just nod with a smile. „Yes, I’ll see you there!”

 

 

*

 

 

Later that night, when he was browsing his phone and came across a new post from Alekseev, he immediately flashbacked to the whole thing – not like he forgot it even just for a second.

Overall, it truly was amazing… much, much better than he would’ve guessed. They got on so well, had fun, had… tension? Or some sort of borderline flirting in the very least. He thought about Alekseev calling him pretty – _not_ to his own terrible slip-up before that, but more like how being called pretty from Alekseev made him feel. How being called Kostya made him feel. How _he_ made him feel.

On impulse, he decided to type the comment; „ **Pretty** ” under Alekseev’s new picture. He might’ve lost his mind, but he figured he might aswell dive face first into the fire once he touched it. Besides, this was a good way to also… maybe secure what he said with humor and live up to it?

What he didn’t expect was a _direct message_ from Alekseev. His heart just about jumped out of his chest as he opened it; he needed to seriously pull himself together.

**’Thank you, that comment was the sole reason I posted that picture for.’**

One of these days Mélovin was going to choke and die because of Nikita Alekseev.

He smiled at his phone, then _chuckled_ , like some…

„Wow, fuck!” He cleared his throat, but his smile came back just a second later.

He was unbelievable. He was a tease, even if he was shy, he somehow always surprised him, and Mélovin loved it. He had no idea what any of this meant, but he knew he couldn’t wait to see where all of it would go once they got to Lisbon.

Surely it would tip in one direction… or would it? He was just curious which direction that would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uuu, I wonder what will happen in Lisbon?  
> Once again, feel free to leave your comments and thoughts here, and we'll see where it truly goes next week :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The preparations and rehearsals start in Lisbon... will their relationship begin to tip one way or another?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter so far, and might be my actual favorite. I went through heaven and hell trying to write this as well as possible. also note that some schedule timings (like rehearsals-wise) might be changed for plot reasons, lul. BUT I definitely hope it was worth the wait~ Enjoy... ;)

@nikialekseev is a hero we don't deserve. i admit i am in a bit of a delay because i was busy staring at this piece of art

 *

Although he was on his flight to Lisbon, he couldn’t quite believe it was actually happening. It was here… Eurovision was just around the corner, and Mélovin was more than ready; he was buzzing with nerves already, he couldn’t wait to land and start the proper preparations, the stage rehearsals… it was all incredibly exciting, and he was living for every second of this experience.

Though he would’ve been a fool to deny that these were not the only kind of nerves inside him that made him feel on edge, ready to land, ready to run, ready to be there; it’s been nearly a week, and he couldn’t wait to meet Alekseev again.

In the past few days, he just sort of accepted the fact he was more than interested in him, that this ’thing’, this ’crush’ was actually something that kept growing, the more time they spent together – and interestingly enough the more time they spent apart. There was a potential possibility of perhaps _something_ happening, and Mélovin, no matter how much he tried to deny it and brush it off – because he _did_ try, and very hard –, was more than excited about that concept, too.

They texted each other a few times, though it seemed like none of them wanted to go overboard, but they did keep in touch, they kept it on. In a way, Mélovin figured the subtlety of the texting was a positive thing; it kept the mystery, the ambiguitiy, the suspense.

But then again, even if Alekseev just wanted to be friends in the end, Mélovin told himself he’d still be content. It will be the time of his life either way, and he was welcoming it, whatever there was to come.

 

*

 

As it turned out, his time in Lisbon was even more hectic than what he had predicted. Practice, interviews, more practice, conferences, the stage rehearsals… it was a never-ending spiral of endless excitement and work, but he enjoyed all of it, and most importantly; he truly felt like he was doing his very best, and couldn’t wait to show everyone what he and his team had in stock for Europe.

However, limited time also meant limited chances to be around Alekseev – a tiny stepback from his original plan, but he didn’t want it to get to him; he was most importantly there for work, afterall.

Their hug was rather enthusiastic when they first met there this time; they greeted each other like great friends already, exchanged a few words before they were dragged apart by various duties they each had respectively. Another thing that didn’t quite turn things in their favor was that Alekseev’s rehearsals were on the days Mélovin had more time – and then his own fell on the days Alekseev was more available. Still, they made a silent agreement to make the most of it.

Sometimes they would go and check out each other’s rehearsals, wait for the other in lunch breaks, and generally spend as much time together as their schedule allowed them to. It worked… more or less decently.

Mélovin definitely found out even more about him, their chemistry was still very… _present_ , and it always made him smile to think about the fact that Alekseev seemed to be just as determined to do all this as he was. That _this_ , building this… friendship seemed to be one of his priorities, too.

„Actually, I was thinking…,” Alekseev began before sipping some of his tea in lunch break.

„Hmm?” Mélovin hummed back while trying to get some salad on his fork, idly thinking about how comfortable they became with each other, all while that type of excited nervousness never left him entirely.

Which, probably the others noticed aswell, given they were alone increasingy more often in the little free time they got – even now there were people around, but everyone else was paying attention to their own group, or the people they got closer to. And although Mélovin got on well with a few other people aswell, he didn’t mind this the slightest, and not just because he generally had more time for Alekseev because of it, but because he felt most comfortable in his presence, too – which was kind of odd, considering… his _major crush_.

„Tonight I could technically get away, and perhaps hang out with you in your room for a while?”

_Speaking of major crush!_

Mélovin somehow managed to drop the entire fork back onto his plate as he processed that question, only to be greeted with a laughing Alekseev when he looked back up. „I mean, we barely had the time to really spend some time together, I thought we could perhaps grab every opportunity. If you’re up for it, of course.” Another sip of his tea, like this was the most nonchalant thing there was ask.

 _Jesus…_ Somewhere in the back of his mind Mélovin was more and more sure that Alekseev knew exactly what he was doing. Unless of course, Mélovin just wanted to see proof even where there weren’t any. _No way,_ he thought sarcastically, _that would be a first!_

„I mean, yeah, absolutely. I agree, that sounds good!” He finally managed, although ’managed’ was perhaps an exaggeration. _For the love of God, don’t start this again!_

He tried to cover up his sudden – and clearly overflowing – enthusiasm by at least seeming chill on the outside, but probably with not much luck.

„Great,” Alekseev smiled, leaning back in his chair. „Then I’ll text you when I’ll be available later.”

„Yeah, cool!” And Mélovin definitely didn’t feel like their table was suddenly spinning.

 

*

 

Later that night, Mélovin also definitely did not make sure about five times that his hotel room was in even better condition than usual, nor he eyed his phone rather anxiously, about every second minute, waiting for a certain text, because that would’ve been a dumb thing to do. And regardless of anything that might’ve suggested it lately, he was not dumb.

When he did get a text, and he jumped like Citrus would whenever he got scared, he was disappointed to find out it was just a text from his best friend and manager, Artem;

 **’go get him** **’**

He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or roll his eyes – frankly sometimes ignoring him was the best option. Clearly he was removed from reality if he thought Mélovin would get anyone or anything – besides anxiety.

When Alekseev did show up a few more minutes later, Mélovin was already at a stage where he seriously considered cancelling after finding some lame excuse – but once they were actually together, he found it easier and easier to slip back to a more or less calm state.

At a certain point they both ended up just laying back down on the bed – though on opposite sides, however if Mélovin moved a little, he knew their head would be touching. It was a tiring day, these days all were, so he figured this was completely reasonable. Their conversation didn’t die down, though, not once, and he loved the fact that Alekseev didn’t seem to want to cut it short either, despite both of them being more tired than not.

„Actually… I was rather wary of meeting you, did you know?” Alekseev asked at one point, and Mélovin grinned up at the ceiling.

„Is that so?”

„Yes, because of the whole drama. I thought you might think negatively of me, I don’t know. But I was rather nervous about it, because I didn’t have anything against you, and feared that perhaps you will resent me or something.”

Mélovin listened, humming. „I actually had the same fear, though.”

„… Really?” Alekseev sounded surprised.

„Yeah, I mean… I couldn’t have known. And I’m gonna admit there was a time when I thought that perhaps I _should_ resent you, but I never actually did. I’ve been a fan of your music, I wanted to… meet you, without all this negativity,” he grinned once more. „I was pissed when you revoke your bid in Vidbir because I thought I lost the chance to meet you. I even thought stupid things, like… maybe you did it because of me, because I was there, it was… so stupid. But well, none of that actually happened, and we did meet, so…”

_I need to shut up already, for Christ’s sake…!_

For the longest moment, Alekseev didn’t reply, and Mélovin started to fear that maybe he did say too much.

„I did kind of… in a way pulled out of the competition because of you,” Alekseev said quietly then, and Mélovin instantly propped up on his elbow to look at him properly.

Alekseev didn’t look at him, though, just smiled, tearing his eyes from the ceiling and glancing down. „I mean, let’s just say it was a part of it. I mainly did it because I _do_ think I’m also sort of a Belarusian artist at this point, but when I found out you were going for it again, I… didn’t want to risk it. I was kind of rooting for you the last time, and recognized that _want_ you had to get out there, and I figured it wouldn’t be fair if I somehow took that chance from you. I thought ’Wow, this guy really wants it… I can try from elsewhere, too’.” He finished talking with a shrug, and Mélovin was just… staring at him like an idiot.

„You… You..” He was clearly not capable of forming proper words, let alone sentences, and that was when Alekseev glanced at him again, laughing a little.

Fuck, did he want to kiss him…

„I mean, at least in the end it worked out fine, right?”

Mélovin contemplated that question for a second, also just to give himself time to find his voice again. _Damn right it did, though!_

„I mean sure, but now we are rivals again, in a way,” he reminded him, finally managing to get back to himself.

„Aww, true. Not until the Final, though…,” there was something in Alkseev’s voice there, but Mélovin didn’t have the time to ask him about it, because he continued instantly. „And I think in a way it’s pretty great that we are doing this at the same time. However, you know who thinks we hate each other? The public!” He laughed, and Mélovin actually laughed with him.

„Yeah, well that’s because they need great stories and drama, we’re practically serving them that! ... But we could get them all confused,” he added with a sly grin, getting a questioning look from Alekseev.

„Come here… we’ll take a selfie,” Mélovin announced, repositioning himself so he was laying on the bed properly, and laughed as Alekseev also turned and practically laid next to him as Mélovin held up his phone in front of them. „Say cheese, Niki!”

They laughed at the picture; them clearly on a bed, all wide grins.

„I’m seriously going to post this,” Mélovin decided, already editing it on Instagram.

„Well…,” Alekseev said inbetween smaller chuckles. „After this, they will definitely be confused at best.”

Mélovin showed him the chosen title, and they both laughed again;

 **’Just two Ukrainians chilling after rehearsals** **’**

„Seriously, though… this is nonsense. They should know we don’t have anything against each other,” he said then, quietly, trying not to focus _too much_ on the fact that he was laying next to Alekseev, although it was just about impossible.

Alekseev’s hair was kind of tickling his cheek, their heads were definitely touching now… he was impossibly close, and his _scent_ … damn him, he smelled nice.

„Thank you, Kostya,” Alekseev said softly, turning and… –

_Oh._

Turning and giving him a small kiss on the cheek, making Mélovin freeze as his pulse flipped out all at once.

All coherent thougths escaped him, although perhaps deep down he was aware this could still be a platonic… friendship… thing.

Alright, no, his mind was shutting down.

That was the most -- the goddamn _sweetest thing_ to ever happen to him, and he considered the possibility of spontaneously combusting when he more or less processed it came from _Alekseev_.

Alekseev, who pulled back instantly, but Mélovin turned nontheless, not even having any ounce of control anymore as he stared at him.

Alekseev stared right back, with gentle eyes. He looked a bit scared, too. Perhaps afraid he went too far…?

_I could kiss you on the lips and then you’d let that thought g –_

He needed to stay in control, but it was just not happening; not when they locked eyes, not when he felt pulled in by some invisible force, when every fiber of his being was craving to close the distance…

„Niki, d-do you...,” he whispered, slightly stumbling over his words, not even sure what he wanted to ask – and it didn’t seem to matter at all, when Alekseev’s glance flickered down to his lips as he began talking.

Mélovin wasn’t entirely aware he started leaning in until Alekseev’s phone interrupted them – making them both jolt and almost jump apart as the loud chimes filled the room. He felt dizzy, not quite ready to process what would’ve happened if Alekseev’s phone didn’t start to ring…

„Oh, I… I have to go back. My team is worried I might not get enough rest,” Alekseev said quietly, eyeing his phone.

_Great timing!_

„Yeah, yeah… for sure,” Mélovin nodded, trying to act as cool about it as it was possible, like he wasn’t at least slightly disappointed.

He walked him to his room’s door, not sure if he should act in a way where he acknowledges what he was about to do, or act like he never even tried to kiss him. Probably the latter. Even if he might regret it.

„I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said with a small nod, smiling like everything was completely chill. No heart palpitations.

Alekseev flashed him a small but genuine smile before walking out the door.

He fell back down onto the bed – and quite dramatically –  once he was by himself again. There were so many questions in his head, and despite everything, he felt more confused than ever. What did his body language mean? Did he _want_ Mélovin to kiss him? Was he seeing things? He _did_ kiss him on the cheek…

„This adorable fucker…” Mélovin sighed, voice actually full of affection.

He was entirely screwed. Every day, he slowly but surely realized he kept sinking deeper into this mess.

He wanted… he wanted _him_.  „And him I will get,” he whispered to himself, deciding on it, and believing he could, even if just for a few moments.

 

*

 

Mélovin’s plan of ’getting the guy’ came to a halt quite quickly, as they barely had time for that sort of alone time he was hoping for – like the other night, in his hotel room. They attempted to make time to at least chat for a few minutes each day, and Alekseev tried his best to be present all the way through on his rehearsal two days later – but in the end he still had to leave before it was over.

Mélovin once again found himself being too caught up with work and the preparations for a while to actually pay mind to it, and then suddenly the final stage rehearsals arrived, the first Semi Final being just around the corner, and the Opening Ceremony being held just two days before that… god, Mélovin hated to admit it, but he was kind of anxious about that one event, even if he found the idea of it exciting.

In the end, it went a lot smoother than expected. It felt like he really achieved something already, just walking on that red carpet, interviewers trying to catch up and take pictures of him at every step… he knew he would never forget any of it.

Thankfully his social phobia wasn’t in the way, as he was too busy being extremely high on adrenaline for being able to be _a part of_ something so big. He talked with ease, he got through it, and it truly felt like it paid off.

… Especially when he got back to his hotel room later that night and checked out some footage of the other contestants being interviewed on the red carpet. Yes, mainly because of Alekseev.

_Fine, entirely because of him._

Mélovin immediately sat back up with a grin once he heard the interviewer mention _his_ name to him, which made Alekseev smile on his screen in that certain way he was so familiar with by now.

„Oh, Mélovin? Yes, people don’t seem to believe it but we actually get on really well. In fact I’m probably closest to him.”

Just as he was grinning at his phone, it suddenly buzzed, holding a text from Alekseev himself. Mélovin almost had the urge to look around, because, Jesus, he didn’t actually _know_ , did he?

He chuckled, tapping on the video link he sent him – only to find his own bit of the red carpet interview, where he was talking about being a fan of Alekseev’s music even before all this. It was quickly followed by another text;

**’I can’t believe you’re telling people about being my fan, that’s kind of cute.’**

Mélovin was still grinning the entire time he composed a reply for Alekseev.

**’and i’ve heard you said we get on really well. that we’re real tight’**

It didn’t even take Alekseev a full minute to reply;

**’Don’t mock me, or next time someone asks, I’ll just tell them I can’t stand you.’**

Mélovin laughed at his phone, not even toning down his smugness as he replied.

**’you wouldn’t. it’s really sweet that you looked me up though ! :)’**

_Casual._ He was aware they both knew he was full of it – and he honestly wished he could see Alekseev’s face when reading that message, for which in the end, he took a bit longer to reply;

**’Go to sleep, Kostyantyn’**

He stared at the message for a few minutes, and couldn’t help but keep laughing to himself. He did probably manage to make him flustered, and enough so he forgot that Mélovin practically admitted he ’looked him up’, aswell.

„Damn you, Nikita Alekseev…” Mélovin whispered fondly to his phone. „You are adorable.”

 

*

 

He instantly noticed that something was off.  It was Alekseev’s last stage rehearsal, and… well, he was wavering, to say the least.

Mélovin was sitting in the green room with some other contestants, just watching the rehearsals idly, but he was frowning from the moment the first chorus hit. He was sitting pretty far, but he could almost feel the nerves radiating from Alekseev on the stage. He had the terrifying thought that he seemed like someone who already gave up.

He knew he will not stand for this kind of attitude and resignation, not when he’s been doing _incredible_  on every other rehearsal!

Therefore as soon as Alekseev’s short break started and he disappeared from the stage, Mélovin practically jumped to his feet, hoping to find him somewhere backstage, preparing to give him such a pep talk, maybe a little scolding.

In the end, he found Alekseev in a smaller room backstage where they kept several props, all alone, just running his fingers through a piano’s keys, staring down at them.  He was suddenly hit by a wave of deja vu - except this piano was broken, and Alekseev seemed to share that state in that moment.  _God_ … he looked so sad.

_Well, that’s it, no scolding under any circumstance!_

„Niki…?” Mélovin called, paying special mind for his voice to sound as gentle as possible – it instantly made Alekseev smile, even if just a little.

„I was horrible out there, huh?” He mumbled, still not looking at him.

Christ, seeing him unhappy was possibly the worst thing Mélovin was ever subjected to, and the overwhelming desire to do _anything_ in order to make him happy again was unbelievably strong. He was somewhat stunned to realize that really, he’d do anything for him.

He took a few steps closer, shaking his head. „Oh, you were far from _horrible_. It was not your best, but we can’t always do great,” he reasoned, slowly approaching him.

Alekseev was still looking down at his fingers, showing another one of those sad smiles. „I really don’t… do great that often. I don’t know what it is, but I think I just lost confidence –”

„That’s exactly it!” Mélovin nodded, as if he’d just connected the dots himself. „It’s certainly not about your abilities, because I’ve seen you perform countless times, and you’re incredible. You just started doubting yourself, because this version of the song intimidates you when it shouldn’t, and it effects your performance. But you know you can do it, and you did it before. It’s all inside your head, Niki…”

Without thinking, he reached out and placed his hand over Alekseev’s, once he rested it on the piano – it was an instinct of comfort, even if his pulse did quicken as they both froze for a second. Every time he was practically closer to him, in any way, he was starting to get a little dizzy… right, he forgot about this minor detail for a second there.

But Alekseev didn’t pull his hand away from below his own – he just glanced up at him from the side, and Mélovin decided to keep talking so he won’t collapse right then and there, because that would be awkward.

„I mean I definitely remember how perfectly you sang it at the music studio, with nothing but just a piano. Or in Amsterdam, when I was watching from the side,” he smiled a little. „Or literally how perfectly you sing all your other songs at concerts and various events. It doesn’t just disappear, you have it in you, you just need to stop being scared of it. Your vocals are wonderf –”

„Kostya…,” Alekseev chuckled a little, clearly embarrassed suddenly. Another thing he noticed about Alekseev was the fact that he was incredibly modest, or perhaps a bit too hard on himself. Whenever he was complimented, he shrugged it off.

Mélovin understood wanting to do everything he could, as he himself was a perfectionist, but with Alekseev, it came off completely differently somehow. He was so… _soft._

„I know you’re right, though… about me not being confident enough of it at times,” Alekseev said then, looking back down.

„Yes, so bring out that confidence! Or some drive. Because whether or not you agree, your vocals _are_ amazing, and you can nail it so easily. Don’t be scared of it, because you have no reason to,” Mélovin pressed, although gently. „If it helps, think about me…?”

Mélovin bit his lower lip, not knowing if he was pushing it or not, but decided this was no place to play it safe. „That night in Amsterdam, it was actually you who gave me confidence, because I wanted to… impress, I guess,” he shrugged, like it wasn’t as big of a deal as it really was.

Alekseev was eyeing him from beside him once again, but this time Mélovin was the one who didn’t really dare to look at him, he just listened to him talk – hand still resting on Alekseev’s, but at this point he was almost afraid to move it; „Actually, to be honest… I wasn’t originally this stressed about my performance, because although I knew it would be nice to get into the Final, I just wanted to come here and share my song. There wasn’t much pressure on me, but now…”

When Alekseev cut his sentence off, Mélovin did look up; and his heart nearly instantly stopped as they were standing there, so close, eyes locked, hands touching…

_Oh… Jesus…_

„Now I want to get in… so I can be in the Final. With you.” He talked so quietly he might’ve aswell whispered it.

_Fuck._

Mélovin was dazed – entirely swept away. This was it… this seemed like the perfect moment to… to maybe…

He carefully leaned forward, driven by nothing but the wistful idea of finally being even closer to him, and as his lips met Alekseev’s, every single thought that weren’t about _him_ evaporated from inside his head. Alekseev did make a surprised little noise despite probably realizing what Mélovin was going for as soon as he leaned in.

_Adorable._

But he didn’t pull away – Mélovin wasn’t even sure either of them were breathing. It was just the most brief touch of lips, but it felt like it was everything. Mélovin could feel his lips practically buzzing, wanting to move and kiss him properly… but for a start, for a little taste, this was perfect after all the time he’d been wanting to kiss him. They might aswell drag it out in that painfully sweet way.

When he did pull back just a few moments later, Alekseev was looking at the ground, chuckling briefly…

_God, why does he have to be everything I’m unable to resist –_

„I was… wondering when that’d happen,” Alekseev admitted, and Mélovin suddenly felt like he’d just gotten knocked off of his feet.

„Oh…? So you were expecting me to kiss you?” He asked, the idea humoring him almost as much as it made him feel lightheaded.

„Maybe…” Alekseev grinned, though still not looking at him.

„No maybes, Niki… did you perhaps _want_ me to kiss you?” Mélovin felt too happy to stop the playful teasing now, leaning closer just to tempt him.

„Maybe…” He repeated, still avoiding his glance, until Mélovin hummed, and he kissed him for a second time, just a little bit. Alekseev was welcoming it, even if it was just a lingering peck, it was overwhelming enough – especially as he felt Alekseev’s fingers part below his hand, so his own fit perfectly between them. That was a good enough answer.

God, he was seriously getting dizzy – his pulse was possibly going absolutely haywire. Since when was he so affected by innocent kisses? Oh, right… this was _Alekseev._

Once they pulled apart for the second time, Mélovin couldn’t even stop the overjoyed chuckle that escaped him, but he made it so it went with the teasing words he had in mind; „You know, if I had known you wanted me to kiss you so much, I would’ve already done it plenty of –”

He was entirely unprepared for Alekseev shutting him up with a kiss this time; a kiss that was more than just a peck, how he turned and wrapped his arms around his neck, and how he captured Mélovin’s lower lip before proceeding to kiss him in a way Mélovin wished to kiss him just a few moments ago; lips moving against each other, somehow including how desperately he wanted to do this practically for weeks now.

The world seemed to cease existing altogether, and Mélovin wasn’t even sure it was a completely conscious act to reach down and lift Alekseev up, then seat him on the top of the piano – all without breaking the kiss.

The kiss, that was sweet, playfully demanding and yet so, so slow and gentle. Or did it just turn slow and gentle…? Mélovin couldn’t recall, he couldn’t even _think_ of anything that weren’t Alekseev’s surprisingly soft and kissable lips, or the fact that Alekseev initiated this one… that he was more than on board, and… what that meant…

 _I never want to stop kissing you_ , Mélovin decided right then.

Except life had a say in that, right in that moment; Alekseev’s earpiece scratched and they pulled apart with a sigh as someone said he needed to go back, that his break was over.

_Right… we’re at the rehearsals. In Lisbon. Song contest. Right._

„I have to go back…,” Alekseev mumbled, glancing _down_ at him – for the first time, because of where he was seated, and his voice sounded _so pained_ , Mélovin liked it a lot more than he should’ve.

„Right...,” Mélovin nodded, unable to resist the urge of leaning forward once more and give him another small kiss, his hand caressing his cheek a little. „Go get them.”

_Wonderful… I’m absolutely addicted._

Alekseev chuckled a little, clearly embarrassed – or just very happy, who could tell at this stage –, as he hopped off of the piano, seeming all sorts of dazed, for which Mélovin was more than proud of himself.

„I’ll try my best. That probably… helped a lot,” he said with a nod, doing that thing where he reaches for Mélovin’s hand but then lets go as he actually begins to leave, somehow that simple gesture managing to murder Mélovin even more. It also wasn’t clear if he meant the pep talk or the kissing – maybe both, and Mélovin was more than happy either way.

„You’ll do great… I’ll be right out there,” he managed to say as Alekseev left the room with a similar grin he was wearing, although perhaps a bit more sheepish.

Once he was alone again, Mélovin practically collapsed down onto the piano seat, his legs quite literally giving out.

_Holy mother of…_

„God…!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still blown away by the support, so let me grab the moment and thank every single one of you once again! <3 it helps so much...? you guys don't even know.  
> See you next Friday!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first semi final is approaching, and the stakes are high. Everything will be decided now.
> 
> Either they can advance together, or lose even more time. Mélovin is hoping for the latter - and perhaps he ends up achieving more than he originally hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe we made it here! the last chapter ;;; writing these two, and especially having a take on mélovin has been nothing but an absolutely amazing experience and i'm so glad i got to share it with you. so many of you expressed support, and i couldn't possibly be more grateful <3  
> when i started this, i thought perhaps 10 people will read it if i'm lucky, AND YET ;-; just thank you ALL so much, for the comments, the messages, the posts - and also huge thank you to my boyfriend; we kept pushing each other through and no matter what you say, your art is just as important here as my writing. thank you all. please enjoy <3

 

 

He honestly didn’t get over that kiss for hours – and he knew he won’t even get over it anytime soon. It was surreal, it was… the best damn thing that could’ve happened, and Mélovin actually started to think he might’ve just already won the biggest prize, and that the Eurovision trophy would be nothing compared to this. He knew that although they were just a few small – _and fucking perfect_ – kisses, they will advance. They had to.

He was floating. Through the entire damn day. It was surreal.

He was also more than relieved when he got back to Alekseev’s last go of rehearsal. He went back to being as vocally amazing as Mélovin knew he was; and the smirk on his face was definitely not the cause of their previous little act in a hidden little room – just like _obviously_ Alekseev wasn’t this amazing and stunning on stage again because of this same reason.

He thought he might come to terms with it at least a bit by nightfall, but he was wrong; and a certain person knocking on his room’s door didn’t help one bit.

„What are you doing here at 11pm?” Mélovin asked, dumbfounded, suddenly malfunctioning severely to realize he sounded like he didn’t appreciate him being there _right now_.

Alekseev chuckled, faking a sad expression, that somehow still kicked Mélovin right in the ribs. „I mean I _can_ go back to my –”

„No!” Mélovin said instantly, perhaps a bit too eagerly, disrupting him. He attempted to gather his thoughts while Alekseev chuckled, clearly pleased.

_How does one even act after kissing like that?_

„I just meant it’s late, and you will probably need all the rest for tomorrow.”

_There. Completely reasonable, right? Definitely not over-protective._

„Yes, but… I thought… I mean it will really be a big day, and you clearly help me handle it better, so I figured I could stay here with you, and then sneak back before my team starts looking for me?”

Mélovin thought he was having an aneurysm.

„Y-You… want to spend the night here? With me?” He managed to stutter out, and for heaven’s sake, just how helpless could he be? But this time it was reasonable, right? Because… _what?_

„If that’s okay. But don’t worry, I don’t have any hidden intentions,” he added with a wide grin, because of course, that’s _just_ the mental image Mélovin’s brain needed in his already fragile state.

„Nikita Alekseev…” Mélovin gasped, amused, deciding on ignoring all his thoughts and play it as safe as possible. „You mean you _sneaked out_?” He purposely made it sound like it was the most scandalous thing anyone could’ve done.

He shrugged a little, still grinning. „Maybe.”

„Alright. Well, mi casa, su casa….” Mélovin said as he stepped away from the door, quite amused with himself – he acted and talked like he wasn’t in the middle of a shock enduced seizure somewhere in his brain.

They didn’t really waste their time with awkwardly standing around – they practically went straight to bed, though they weren’t going to sleep immediately… they talked a bit more – and talking was good in making Mélovin’s heartbeats slow down to an extent, though that extent was arguable when Alekseev was laying next to him… in the same bed.

„You ended up being incredible out there,” he said after a while, smiling to himself slightly as Alekseev looked at him. They were both on their sides, facing each other.

„You really think so? I definitely did feel much more confident, that’s for sure,” Alekseev was speaking softly, and Mélovin wondered once again how he could be so shy and somehow so daring at the same time.

„Yes, and I told you that was the only problem! You are incredibly talented, your performance will leave an impact on people… you’re almost as dramatic as I am,” he added, making both of them laugh a little.

After a few seconds, once they were just smiling at each other, Mélovin decided to continue. „And I definitely think you’re in there with a shot. I believe in the fact that you will qualify… but there’s one thing I didn’t get to tell you, Niki… although I was thinking it.”

„Hmm?” Alekseev hummed, and the way he was looking at him nearly distracted Mélovin from what he wanted to say.

„Uh… Right, it’s just that… even if somehow you won’t make it… I want you to be incredibly proud of yourself still, because I will be. I already am. To me, you are already in the Top 3, and it won’t reflect your talent. But you _will_ make it! I just wanted to say this. And you know, I won’t stop… how I am with...” He couldn’t bring himself to finish, but he hoped Alekseev got the message.

Judging by his smile, he did.

„I really appreciate that,” he said, making Mélovin smile, aswell.

Part of him thought about how they talked around… well, everything else that happened. The way in which they avoided the topic of them kissing was almost remarkable.

Although it didn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest. In fact, it felt… normal?

„We should probably get some sleep…” Alekseev said with a sigh, and Mélovin nodded, kind of still wishing for more – although he literally had Alekseev in the bed next to him, what more could he possibly ask for, really?

„Yes, especially if you plan on sneaking back early… I want you to be energized tomorrow. But just remember not to worry, and give it your all, like you did tonight,” he added as a last warning, making Alekseev grin.

„Alright, alright… Good night, Kostya,” he said softly, just as Mélovin turned to his other side, not trusting himself the slightest, humming back a swift goodnight.

He practically froze when – less than a minute later – he felt Alekseev… spoon him?

_Well there you fucking go, wishing for more and then not being able to handle it!_

He didn’t dare to show one bit of discomfort, though, because despite not being used to this, he didn’t have any; quite the opposite. It was…

Alekseev was practically hiding against him. It felt like he was clinging to him, burying his face against his shoulder, and Mélovin felt his insides melt in such a way he didn’t think was possible. It was everything. It just was. He had the absurd idea that he would be completely content with always falling asleep like this.

After a few seconds, he slowly turned – not enough to get out of his hold, as it was furthest from what he wanted, but just enough so he could look at him. That made it worse; Alekseev suddenly seemed just a tint redder, already beginning to brush it off with the way he talked, playfully; „I’m supposed to sleep, Kostya! You know I have to do my very best, so – ”

 _You are truly the softest, sweetest guy I’ve ever met_ , Mélovin thought as he leaned in to gently kiss him on the lips, letting it linger just a little bit, ultimately cutting him off. It seemed hard to break it… God, Mélovin realized he’d gladly walk through even fire for him – he already burned him enough.

Once he did pull back, Alekseev smiled and looked away almost _bashfully_ – god damn it, meanwhile Mélovin was grinning like the gone fool he was. „I’m sorry, I just merely thought I deserved a good night kiss after everything.”

„Oh, is that so?” Alekseev laughed softly, and it was so _genuine_. „Well, in that case…”

Mélovin’s stomach dropped, although he asked for it – and really, every inch of him wanted it. This time, when Alekseev kissed him, he attempted to drag it out just a little by moving his lips – and when Alekseev responded, he smiled into it, making Mélovin see stars.

It ended way too quickly again, but Mélovin knew they didn’t have time for this. Alekseev chuckled a bit breathily. „Goodnight, Kostya.”

Mélovin shook his head briefly, but unable to hide his smile. „Goodnight, Niki.”

„If you go to sleep now I’ll kiss you more tomorrow,” Alekseev promised with a smirk, clearly noticing the slight disappointment in Mélovin’s eyes.

_Well! That was a deal!_

He instantly nodded and turned around, making Alekseev laugh as he moved his head right back against his shoulder. „And thank you… for everything,” he whispered, right before kissing his nape.

The electricity that sparkled upon that went through Mélovin’s body faster than he was prepared. „I thought you wanted to sleep, Nikita! If you keep this up, I might not let you!” He was every bit serious within being actually serious.

Alekseev just answered with another small laugh.

It took a bit longer for Mélovin to fall asleep, given the circumstances – but also a lot faster than he thought it was possible considering these exact circumstances. Somehow, he felt warm. He decided he loved being held… especially if it was Alekseev holding him.

 

*

 

The next day went by in a blur – a blur, filled with nerves.

Mélovin was half-asleep when Alekseev left his hotel room at dawn… he was still able to smile and attempt to pull him back to bed, like it was no big deal. He was awake enough to remind him that he owed him with more kisses… and pouting like a child after receiving one on his forehead.

„I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!” Alekseev reasoned with his own pout, making Mélovin laugh. _Like he cared_.

He was almost awake enough to process they were acting incredibly domestic… like an actual couple. How natural it all was.

All he remembered other than these was reminding Alekseev not to worry about tonight as he sneaked out of his room. Then, he fell back asleep, although his mind was filled of all sorts of images and worries _he himself_ had, added to the incredibly happy feeling that was somehow still settling in his stomach, waiting to be processed.

From the moment he woke up properly, he felt as nervous all day as if it was his time to step on stage – no, it was worse. The day went by in a blur… Eurovision was officially about to start, everyone was busy, and the hype that spread around the whole arena even from the morning was absolutely crazy. Mélovin was around to show support to the contestants who competed in the first semi, although he mostly expressed it by watching as everyone was running around. He himself didn’t exactly have one calm moment, either, despite just watching.

He found himself a spot to watch it in the Arena with some other contestants and staff people, though not directly from the audience. He had to physically stop himself from chewing off his fingernails entirely when it was Alekseev’s turn – he knew he would deliver, and he did. He so did, without a doubt, and his staging was so well executed and memorable; it felt like this was Alekseev’s best performance yet, despite knowing exactly how nervous he was, and Mélovin would’ve loved to drown in the relief of success – but he knew he won’t feel it entirely until Europe proved him Alekseev was worthy of a spot in the Final. Because he so, so _was_!

It also felt like a true torture that he couldn’t join him in the green room after his performance, tell him how well he did and how proud he was, and just _be there_ in general – especially while they were announcing who got through. He was going absolutely crazy – barely even paid attention to the rest of the acts, just enough to note the basics, and how likely they were to get in, but there was honestly no sure way of telling.

By the time the show went down and the announcement of the results began, he was walking around. Every time they named someone else, he let out a frustrated sigh. Some people were beginning to stare at him, but frankly he didn’t give a damn. He tried to remind himself what he told Alekseev; this was a hard semi, and everyone was very talented – the fact that they were here to begin with was enough proof of that, and no matter what would happen, Alekseev did wonderfully, and he should always be proud of himself.

_Because I’m so very proud._

Yes, all this was true, but still… he needed him to get in. He wanted to do this together, especially since Alekseev told him that was what _he_ wanted, and he couldn’t help but think about just how much he really deserved this. And so did many others, too, yes, but…

_God._

Just three more spots… just two more…

_Oh, Christ._

_Please._

When they showed the remaining contestants sitting there, nervous, before announcing the last one, as the camera showed Alekseev, Mélovin’s heart dropped to his stomach. He wanted to be there and squeeze his hand.

They were dragging it out, the crowd was chanting a couple countries’ names, and Mélovin stopped in his tracks entirely when the moment of truth finally came… he held his breath, _please, just let it be_ –

„… Belarus! Congratulations to Alekseev and his song ’Forever’! He definitely shot that arrow through many fans’ hearts tonight!”

Mélovin wasn’t even fully comprehending what was being said after the second he heard ’Belarus’, he just began to run, not caring about frankly anything – if anything, he will give people a good show.

He ran out to the stage, across the bridge, full aware that a camera was following him as the hosts laughed, obviously rather nervously because frankly, _this wasn’t planned_ – but Mélovin didn’t give a damn, he just ran straight to the green room, stopping at the spot Alekseev and his delegation were.

Alekseev just turned around from the excited celebration as he, too, perhaps caught something of _’Seemingly Mélovin from Ukraine – he will be in the second semi final, by the way –, is really excited for Alekseev. It wouldn’t be a surprise, given both of these guys are actually Ukrainian’_ , because he looked shocked for a second as he turned to see if it was true, and then laughed with glee as Mélovin reached him and frankly lifted him up in a tight hug.

 „I told you you would do it! _I told you_!”

Alekseev just laughed, clinging to him, and Mélovin honestly didn’t give a damn about probably having everyone’s and their mothers’ eyes on them, cameramen moving closer, and one of the hosts saying _’Aww, well isn’t it just lovely to see how much the contestants support each other? Truly a wonderful moment!’_

Well, at least he wouldn’t get in trouble for this – not like he cared in that moment, honestly.

 

*

 

Hours later, they entered Mélovin’s room as a tangled mess; as soon as they were alone in the hall, they began kissing, more enthusiastically than ever before, practically stumbling into the room, Mélovin barely finding the door behind them to close it.

They kept chuckling inbetween, but continued immediately after; happy, excited, and so, so _keen_.  Mélovin’s fingers found their way into Alekseev’s messy hair, who hummed in response, pulling him closer, somehow moving their way through the room like this until they fell onto the bed, legs tangled; immediately knocking down a lamp from the bedside table with a loud crash.

„Oh, oops!” Alekseev gasped, while Mélovin just shrugged.

„I’ll pay for it, who cares?” They laughed again before Mélovin leaned back down to kiss him some more… he didn’t have time to process anything that was happening this time; he didn’t even get to fully comprehend that he was here yet, or what happened yesterday between them, the fact that Alekseev was now a finalist, or that they were here, making out in his hotel room as a celebration.

It was perfect, though, all of it – Mélovin certainly felt like he already won. That they both already won.

„I am so proud of you,” Mélovin whispered once he pulled back for a second, staring down at his very own prize, who was looking up at him with the warmest smile.

„Thank you, Kostya,” he whispered, still smiling, making Mélovin feel so incredibly dazed, especially as Alekseev leaned forward, kissing his cheek… and moving down slowly, his lips brushing against his neck, down his skin, making it tingle… _God_. „Thank you for believing in me the whole time…”

He could feel his heart racing, all while feeling so calm and content, and wondered just how gone on Alekseev he truly was… perhaps more than just gone. Perhaps he was falling in love.

He sighed as Alekseev pulled away and leaned back down, looking up at him… he was so painfully attractive. Everything about him was beautiful, his personality and voice included, and Mélovin found himself being completely addicted to him. As Alekseev reached up to caress his cheek, looking at him the same, adoring way Mélovin was probably looking at _him,_ but he couldn’t hide the excitement and happiness in his eyes from –

_Okay, so perhaps I’m already in love._

He leaned down to place a kiss on his mole below his right eye, practically _feeling_ Alekseev smile more upon that gesture – which made him smile instantly, too. He continued to place several small kisses on his cheek, forehead, neck… until he heard his name being called softly.

He pulled back, humming, and instantly getting lost in Alekseev’s eyes. The way he was looking at him was so… so…

„Be my boyfriend,” Alekseev breathed, barely audible, and Mélovin felt like the room did a 360 ° turn with them. He couldn’t even speak… he just gaped at him, blinking.

„I mean… if you want me to truly feel like a winner tonight, then perhaps you should date m –”

Mélovin kissed him silent in that instant, softly – then deepening it, sighing into it as Alekseev responded, getting completely lost in him as the sensations took over his mind, helplessly trying to process what was really happening – and as he more or less did, kissing him even more enthusiastically.

It was like a reflex, as his hips moved against Alekseev’s – only realizing what he did when both of them let out a small, pleased noise, and Mélovin began to see stars.

_God… it’s time to calm down._

„I… I’ll take that as a yes?” Alekseev chuckled breathlessly, and Mélovin felt like he was blushing to the tips of his goddamn ears.

„Good. It is. A yes, I mean,” it was still amusing, how he suddenly forgot how to speak whenever Alekseev… did anything.

But especially tonight… especially after everything that was happening, and happened so far, having Alekseev right below him, looking at him like that, being his. _His._

_Mine._

„I think I already won, no matter what happens the day after tomorrow, or on the night of the Final,” Mélovin whispered, making Alekseev laugh.

„So I’m your prize, you say?” Alekseev sounded and looked just smug enough for Mélovin to instantly want to keep attacking him with kisses – and so he did.

It was impossible to hold back, especially after what happened just a few moments ago… Mélovin figured he might aswell keep pushing his luck… he kissed Alekseev like he was kissing him the first time again; softly, deeply, slowly - he just couldn’t get enough, he was high on plenty of thrilling and happy emotions, and he quite literally wished he could just devour him.

So his lips trailed from Alekseev’s, down his neck, down to his collarbones… barely even aware of what he was doing, just going with what he _wanted_ to do; the fact that Alekseev shivered ever so slightly as he reached his collarbones made him want to continue even more. It felt as if he was suddenly living solely for all his possible reactions.

Everything about Alekseev was driving him insane… the feelings he had for him, his sweet, gentle – but teasing – personality, his looks… the way his lips felt against his skin…

„Kostya…,” Alekseev breathed as Mélovin dared to unbotton his shirt a bit to leave some kisses on his chest, too – he was going slow, making sure that Alekseev knew he could stop him anytime he pleased, but it really didn’t seem like he had any intentions of doing so, especially as his eyes fluttered closed.

Mélovin took that as his cue to continue… undoing the rest of the buttons, one hand moving to his side, his thumb tracing lazy circles on his hipbones as he went down and left kisses on his abdomen, his stomach… which was pretty toned, actually, and perhaps Mélovin spent a bit longer admiring that fact with plenty more kisses than he originally planned.

He truly seemed like a work of art. Not just his voice and his soul, but apparently everything about him. Mélovin planted kisses all over him, like he was truly an art piece, and he was painting him with kisses. He only stopped once he reached the waistband of his pants.

He was drowning in desire, but suddenly he didn’t know just where their boundaries lied. It was true that Alekseev was now his _boyfriend_ \- a concept he still couldn’t even fully process to begin with-, but he _was_ his. Still, he didn’t want to jump to conclusions, and he looked up, ready to seek permission – for what, he didn’t know. For anything _he_ wanted.

Alekseev only opened his eyes once he felt Mélovin pull back – and Mélovin was unable not to make a mental note on how that implied he was content, how he was breathing a bit rapidly, and how his eyes talked about things he perhaps didn’t even have to say. It was mutual. It became clear without words just from the look he was giving him.

_Christ! But still…_

„Niki… I just need to know… if you want something – ” Mélovin didn’t even have time to process that he was also breathing heavier – or was he just trembling? Because Alekseev’s words interrupted him, and even though he asked, he could’ve never prepared himself for the answer.

„You.” Just that one word, spoken so softly. So innocent, and yet so maddening. „I feel like… I’ve gotten so much today. And I know that I have you already, but… maybe I’m greedy, but I want all of you. Right now it feels… it just feels – ”

„I know,” Mélovin whispered, even before his mind caught up. Still, he knew exactly what Alekseev meant. He just did, because he felt the same; this overwhelming need to just be with him, in this very moment that seemed to be perfect, too.

„I just want you to know one thing,” Mélovin continued, moving up and kissing him on the lips softly before pulling back and locking eyes with him. „I wouldn’t be doing any of this unless… you _know_ I care about you, right?”

He wasn’t sure if he would ruin things perhaps by straight up confessing to him, but he hoped Alekseev knew what he meant – and it seemed like he did, from the way he was looking at him. He really looked at Mélovin as if he was the sun, his eyes were full of… love? „I know… I can tell,” he whispered in the end with a small, warm smile, his hand searching for Mélovin’s, their fingers intertwining instantly.

And so Mélovin believed him, and did everything he could to really show him just how true it was. They kissed right after that, and it was as gentle as it was passionate; all Mélovin could think of was a loop of _’I love you I love you I love you’_ , hoping it somehow got through, and then from then on, he completely lost himself in him, and he couldn’t remember much, except for a few details. It was in a way an out of body experience – something else was driving him entirely, and it caused the moments to blur together, but there were a few things he knew he would always remember; how perfectly they really fit together, how insanely _beautiful_ Alekseev looked, how he moaned _his_ name, and how madly in love he really felt the whole time.

 

*

 

 „I’m gonna be honest…,” Alekseev mumbled shortly after, laughing softly, resting his head on Mélovin’s chest while he played with Alekseev’s curls lazily. He was still trying to process… well, everything. In a way he now felt even closer to him. It truly felt like he was trapped in some sort of dream. He hummed in response as he waited for Alekseev to continue. „I kind of wished for all this since the moment we –”

„You wished to sleep with me since the moment we met?!” Mélovin exclaimed, cutting him off, knowing Alekseev most likely meant something else by it, but he couldn’t help himself.

Sure enough, Alekseev immediately covered his face with his hands, laughing. „That’s not what I meant, you idiot!” Mélovin laughed with him for a while, until Alekseev picked up where he left off; „ _I meant to say_ … I wanted this to become something… from the moment you walked up to me when we met, all embarrassed, _clearly_ having a crush – ow!”

Mélovin leaned in and nibbled on his earlobe perhaps a bit too hard upon hearing that, but feeling zero remorse as Alekseev just kept giggling. Oh, was this his _revenge_?

 „But you liked it… you liked _me,_ ” Mélovin added with a smirk, kissing the same spot he just bit, feeling Alekseev smile. They both knew he was right.

„I knew the number eight will be special to me…,” when Mélovin pulled back to look at him upon hearing that, Alekseev smiled almost painfully beautifully. „Your last name has eight letters.”

_God, this guy…_

And clearly he wasn’t done yet; „You were also the eighth person I met in Amsterdam. I just thought… ’Oh… it’s _him_.’”

Mélovin bit his lower lip, deep in thought, almost hard enough to hurt. How ironic, that he also just thought of meeting _him_ the whole time, even before they actually met at all. In fact, in the past few weeks, his mind was full of _him_.

„To be honest, it’d be an honor to be a part of your forever,” Mélovin said, as nonchalantly as he could, all while meaning all of it. Alekseev just grinned and pulled him down by his shirt, kissing him again.

_Yes… he would certainly not mind if this could last forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK. YOU.


End file.
